


Hide and Seek

by merentha13



Category: The Professionals
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-11-02 01:17:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10933965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merentha13/pseuds/merentha13
Summary: Originally published in the 2016 Bisto Con zine.  Slightly edited.





	Hide and Seek

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the 2016 Bisto Con zine. Slightly edited.

Doyle’s head snapped back as a bullet shattered the wooden door frame he’d been using as a shield. Morton’s thugs continued their attack. Aggravated, he emptied his entire clip in the direction of the shots as he rolled across the debris laden lino. 

A noise from the floor above had his pursuers clattering up the stairs, leaving him, for the moment, alone. Cursing as he wiped at the slivers embedded in his cheek, he turned back into the hallway to find better cover. He slid down the wall, feeling temporarily safe, and took a minute to catch his breath and reload his weapon. It seemed they’d been at this for hours, neither side able to get away nor to capture their opposites. Wondering where his errant partner had got off to, he whispered a further impassioned string of profanity that would have impressed even ex-mercenary WAP Bodie.

Bodie. And there was another source of irritation. A month ago, Cowley had given them three days leave and Doyle had invited Bodie to share his bed. Bodie had eagerly accepted the offer. They’d spent most of those seventy-two hours between the sheets and Doyle had found himself in trouble - or more specifically – in love. His attempt to mask those feelings had apparently been a failure. Bodie had left the flat with a smile, but had been running for cover ever since.

His gun loaded, he got back to his feet and started down the hallway, checking rooms as he passed them. A cupboard door at the end of the hallway, slightly ajar, caught his attention. He silently crept closer and aimed his gun. “All right,” he called quietly. “Come outtta there –slowly, with your hands where I can see them.”

“Not very good at this game as a child, eh?” a familiar voice behind the door asked gleefully. Bodie stepped out of the cupboard and raised a hand to shake the remaining splinters out of Doyle’s hair. “You’re supposed to say ‘Come out – come out-wherever you are.’”

Doyle sighed and lowered his gun, half relieved and half incensed. Leave it to Bodie to equate their hunt for Morton with a child’s game of hide and seek. “This is no game, mate. Losing this one could prove fatal.” He glared at his partner. “And where the fuck ‘ve you been?”

“Here and there.” Bodie replied with a shrug.

Doyle drew in a deep breath to tell Bodie off but was interrupted by Bodie quickly changing the subject. 

“There doesn’t appear to be any easy way out of here,” Bodie explained. “The explosion collapsed most of the front of the building – so no door or window exits there. I’ve checked the basement - only one way in and out and Morton’s goons have that covered. If we can get upstairs, there may be a window we could climb out - but if Morton has someone positioned outside, we’d be easy targets.”

“Bloody Cowley!” Doyle groused. “He tells me it’ll be _‘an easy eyes and ears, Doyle. Routine surveillance, Doyle. No need for all this drama, Doyle. All you and Bodie have to do is keep an eye on Morton and report in when he makes contact with the Russians.’_ Easy, my arse. I warned him about Morton. Nothing easy about him when I was on the Drugs Squad.” He looked irritably at his partner as Bodie stifled a yawn. “Shut it, Bodie.” He waved his arms around, taking in the building they were currently trapped in. “All this proves I was right to be wary. Bloody Cowley should’ve listened to me.” Shoulders drooping, he ran his hand through untidy curls. His rant over for now he grumbled, “And where the hell is our back up?”

Creaking floorboards had both men diving for cover; Bodie back behind the cupboard door and Doyle behind an old wooden trunk. When no-one appeared in the hallway, Doyle lightly tapped his gun against the floor to get Bodie’s attention. With a wave of his fingers, he indicated he was going to move to the top of the stairs. Bodie acknowledged the message with a nod and moved into a better position to cover him.

Doyle slowly crawled from behind the trunk and carefully stood up. With still no sign of their quarry, he slipped quietly down the corridor, staying close to the wall. He noted that Bodie had now situated himself behind the chest, giving him a better view down the hallway. Doyle made it to the staircase without incident and began a cautious climb upwards. Keeping his feet on the very edges of the risers, he was able to climb almost silently. Reaching the landing on the next floor, he looked down at Bodie and gave him a quick smile.

Bodie moved to the bottom of the stairs and Doyle beckoned him up. Turning the corner on the landing, Doyle was met by a shotgun blast that barely missed his head. He stumbled backwards and fell down the stairs, taking Bodie back down to the first floor with him. They came to rest on the bottom step in a tangle of limbs. Heavy footsteps coming down the steps after them had them up and moving. They headed for the cellar, where the collapsed walls could provide some cover.

“All right?” Bodie asked when they had found a place to hide behind a couple of old metal desks.

“Bruised me best asset,” Doyle replied rubbing the affected area.

“Be a shame if you broke that beautiful bum. The female population of London would go into mourning,” Bodie joked.

“Berk.” Doyle laughed. He began to drag some crates closer to their hidey-hole.

“What are you doing? Planning on joining RIBA?” Bodie joined in stacking the wooden boxes.

“Ha-bloody-ha. ’m tired of playing cat and mouse. This ends here.”

“You’ve got a plan, then, Batman?”

“Got it one, wonder boy.”

“That’s Boy Wonder, to you, mate.” Bodie mumbled just loud enough for Doyle to hear.

Doyle turned away to hide his smirk. “Let’s get this done, Bodie.” He motioned for Bodie to take cover and positioned himself on the floor a few feet from the bottom of the cellar stairs. He fired his gun and cried out, “Bodie!”

Watching carefully, Doyle saw a head quickly peek around the corner at the top of the stairs and disappear again. He signalled Bodie and tensed to wait for the bait to be taken. The sound of stealthy footsteps slowly coming down the steps made him smile malevolently. He held up two fingers to let Bodie know how many villains were on their way.

As the first man appeared, Bodie rose from behind the desk and placed a bullet neatly between the man’s eyes. As the second villain started to retreat, Doyle let off two shots, and the body of the second thug dropped on the first. Racing up the stairs to take advantage of the chaos caused by their surprise attack, Doyle felled a third man. There was no sign of Morton. Turning and not finding Bodie behind him, Doyle’s stomach clenched in fear. He slowly backed down the stairs. Morton held Bodie with an arm around Bodie’s throat and a gun pressed to the side of his head.

“What’s this then, mate? Entertaining our guests, are we?” Doyle tried for cool to cover his unease.

“Party crasher. He was tucked away down here all the time.” Bodie’s eyes never left Doyle’s face and Doyle could read trust and a bit of fear in that gaze.

“Seems a bit unfriendly.” Doyle’s words were directed at Bodie, ignoring Morton.

“He didn’t take too kindly to our perforating his friends.”

“Ah, I see. Maybe we can make it up to him.”

Morton’s arm tightened around Bodie’s neck. 

“Shut up, both of you,” Morton ordered.

“Definitely unfriendly,” Doyle confirmed.

Morton moved forward, keeping his hold on Bodie. He gestured with a nod of his head towards Doyle. “Put your weapon on the floor and kick it to me.”

Doyle didn’t move.

“Now!” Morton yelled, pushing his gun harder into Bodie’s temple.

Doyle bent over slowly and placed his Browning on the floor. As he moved to stand up, he quickly pulled a knife from his boot, yelled “Down!” and sent the blade flying. The blade took Morton under his ribcage. Freed, Bodie finished the job by slamming Morton’s head against the cellar floor.

“Dead?” Doyle asked.

“No. More’s the pity – but Father will be pleased.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah.” Bodie lightly punched Doyle’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

A flurry of gunshots from outside the building and familiar voices calling for them let them know that their back-up had finally arrived.  
Doyle shook his head.

“Better late than never.” Bodie threw an arm around Doyle’s shoulders as they made their way back upstairs.

 

000O000

 

Well, that ended one game of hide and seek, Doyle thought, as he watched his partner conferring with Cowley. And they had won the round. Maybe that was a sign that he should try to force an end to the game Bodie was playing. No more hiding, no more masks. Put it out there in the open and live with the consequences. Seek and ye shall find - or something like that. The problem was – would he find that Bodie felt the same? – Or would he be feeling Bodie’s fist? Distracted by his own thoughts, he didn’t hear Cowley calling to him.

“Off with the fairies, mate?” Bodie’s voice recalled him to the present. “Cowley wants a word with you.”

“And I want a word with him. This was a cock-up straight from the beginning. He should have listened to me about Morton and put more men on the job.”

Doyle’s ire was on the rise. He didn’t notice that Bodie had stepped back and he was also unaware that Cowley was standing right behind him as he continued to vent his spleen. “Left us out to dry, the old rat did. You could have been killed. Was only luck that I was able to take down Morton before he shot you. And I would’ve got the blame for that, too. _‘Ach, Doyle, you were supposed to watch your partner’s back.’_ Bloody, triple-thinking conniving bastard!”

Doyle was so wrapped up in his diatribe that he missed Bodie’s wince at his choice of words and waved off the warnings Bodie tried to send to get him to shut up. “Madness to think two agents could waltz in and invite Morton and his thugs to tea and that they’d happily oblige. And then to get fucking upset when said agents have to shoot the sodding heavies because his nibs can’t be bothered to send in back-up. What the hell did he -”

“That will be enough, Doyle.” Cowley’s hard, cold words cut straight through Doyle’s tirade.

Surprised, Doyle looked around and saw Cowley fuming behind him, an exasperated Bodie next to him and half the A Squad surrounding him in stupefied silence.

He looked down at his trainers and then back up at Cowley. Straightening his shoulders, raising his chin, glare met glare. “I apologize for the language, but not the opinions,” and he added belatedly, “Sir.”

Bodie cringed.

“Yes, that is all well and good, 4.5,” Cowley replied calmly, but the Controller of CI5 did not look forgiving. “Give Anson your ID and weapons. You are suspended as of now. See me in the morning and we will talk about future – tea parties.”

Doyle nodded sharply and walked away.

 

000O000

 

As Bodie watched Doyle’s retreat, Cowley put a hand on his shoulder. “Go after him, lad. No telling what the hot-head will get up to if left on his own.”  
“Thank you, sir. I’ll keep an eye on him.” Bodie started to follow his partner.

Cowley stopped him a second time. “The job was well done, Bodie. Let 4.5 know.”

“Yes, sir.” Bodie hurried to catch up with Doyle.

Drawing alongside the swiftly moving man, Bodie heard Doyle still muttering. “Suspended – for doing me job. Takes the bloody cake, that does.”

“Oi!” Bodie reached out and spun Doyle around by his shoulder. “What was that all about?”

“He suspended me! Me – for doin’ me job!”

“Well, if you will throw a wobbler -”

“Belt up, Bodie.”

Steering his partner back into the now empty building, Bodie confronted the still angry man. “Ray, it was more than the job that set you off, yeah?”

“He didn’t listen to me, Bodie.” A stiff finger tapped against Bodie’s chest. “Didn’t trust what I told him about Morton.”

“I know, I was there, remember?”

“Yes, well, his poor planning almost cost you your life.” Doyle’s shoulders sagged and he whispered, “Almost cost me you.”

“And why is it different this time, Ray? We’ve been in this situation before and you’ve never -” 

“Because I love you, you fucking moron,” Doyle shouted and pushed Bodie away.

Gobsmacked by the announcement, unconcerned about the message’s suspect delivery, it was all Bodie could do not to break out into laughter as he watched Doyle’s face move from belligerent through stroppy to uncomfortable, and finally to settle on embarrassed.

“Well?!” Doyle demanded stepping in close to Bodie.

“Well, that’s all right, then, innit.”

Narrowed eyes assessed Bodie with ill temper. “If it’s all right, why all the hiding and pulling away? Why’d I wake up alone the mornings after? Why did you always have plans – Judy, or Donna, or Sarah, or whoever the bird of the week was – when I’d invite you over to watch the Match of the Day?” The fast and furious flow of words stopped, and Doyle took a deep breath. Softly, he asked, “Why were you always running away from me, Bodie?”

Checking that no-one was around, Bodie reached out and pulled his stubborn, irate partner in close. He cleared his throat and spoke quietly into Doyle’s hair.  
“I’m sorry, Ray.” Then he ruffled Doyle’s hair and laughed.

Doyle pulled back and stared at Bodie looking offended. “What?”

“I must confess, Raymond, I’ve wanted to hear you say those three words for ages.” He gently kissed the shell of Doyle’s ear. “Although, I’d fanaticised I’d hear them in a slightly different tone of voice.”

Heated words were mumbled into the shoulder of his polo-neck.

“What’s that, sunshine?”

Doyle pulled back far enough to see Bodie’s face. His eyes shifted to a spot over Bodie’s left shoulder. His face red, his voice hoarse, he replied, “Don’t think I could’ve said it any other way.” He dropped his head back onto Bodie’s shoulder and groaned.

Bodie could feel him shaking, and smiled when he realised that Doyle was laughing.

“Answer the question,” Doyle demanded, “Why all the games?”

“Not sure – was afraid I guess – didn’t want to mess up the partnership – the friendship – that’s important to me.”

“And you think it’s not important to me – that I’d risk _us_ just to get a leg over? A lot you think of me, mate.” Doyle turned away.

Bodie closed his hands on Doyle’s arms and he shook him fiercely as he spun him around. “Neither one of us has a stellar record as far as relationships go.” Bodie’s eyes looked intently into Doyle’s. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted. I -” Releasing Doyle’s arms, Bodie placed a finger under Doyle’s chin and lifted his head. “So why now, Ray – why me?”

“Laugh if you will, but I’m tired of being alone. I want someone to come home to. And I’ve tried – but it always turns out wrong. And I’d end up with nothing again. And you – believe me no-one was more surprised than I was when I realised what you mean to me. Never thought I’d find someone who would accept me as I am, you see. And there you were – are.” Doyle shrugged.

Bodie beamed. “Olly olly oxen free!”

“Eh?”

“You did lead a deprived childhood, didn’t you? No playground games for poor Raymond?”

“Bodie!”

“It means the game is over, Ray. All those in hiding can safely come back to home.”

Doyle’s smile set Bodie’s world to right again. “Then, ready or not, here I come!”

End

 

**Author's Note:**

> _Thanks to Dawnwind for the read-through. Hope you’re feeling better, m’dear!_


End file.
